Little Talks
by TheOriginalEggrawl
Summary: Dave and John are close friends and go to a art school in Houston together. Dave has been harboring less than innocent feelings for his best bro but has kept them under wraps for fear of losing his self proclaimed straight buddy. It's not until his Bro somehow gets John under a spell of irony that ends up as a some sort of camaraderie that Dave wants to speak up about it.
1. Don't Listen to a Word I Say

Dave Strider sits at small easel in his room, a half sketched portrait hanging ignored in front of him. It's unreasonably hot for March and he blames his lack of focus on this fact. It has nothing to do with the arrival of his best friend this afternoon for a sorely needed break from college assignments and the lackluster grind of class to class migration coming to an end for the semester. Nothing ado at all. Eventually, Dave admits defeat and drops his charcoal on his desk before logging into pesterchum.

TG: hey egbert, you almost here?  
EB: yeah! Missed the first bus to your side of town earlier but I'll be there soon

TG: cool. you ready for a week of ironic pajama party movie marathons?  
EB: fuck yeah man. Been looking forward to this all month :B  
TG: sweet

EB: i'm so sick of trying to direct acting students who think they're the shit because they've been in commercials since they were mouth breathing tykes.  
EB: sometimes I question my choice in major

TG: just remember that when you're a big shot director that you won't have to deal with shitty actors. you can just be all "sorry but you suck ass, next".  
EB: hahaha right. ugh I so needed this break.  
TG: me too man, if I had to listen to one more lecture on how I need to feel my fucking art before I give birth to it via pencil and watercolour I would have snapped and shoved a fistfull of sharpened drafting pencils into the hippie train wreck of a professors neck.  
EB: boy, you probably need this more than I do

TG: that's a possibility. but speaking of homicidal arts and crafts, Bro's gonna be here.  
TG: I can't promise you won't be buried up to your neck in puppet ass sometime this week, but he's been pretty chill lately. If I didn't think he'd be somewhat tame I wouldn't have subjected you to over exposure.  
EB: awh so kind of you to think of my well being, but he really can't be all that bad, especially now that you're older?  
TG: the man's mind is a bag of cats, cats only get more crotchety as they age until it is almost impossible to keep said cats in the bag. not that he'd strive to do so in the first place.  
TG: we can only hope he has a bottle of catnip for them so the furry little fuckers keep to themselves strung out in a corner somewhere.  
EB: hahaha we can only hope.  
EB: well I"m almost there, so go find your pajamas and pop some corn.  
TG: please Egbert, I am already in said pj's and so ass deep in salty buttered corn kernels that the movie industry wants to make me the poster boy of Netflix.  
EB: Well then mister one step ahead, I will see you soon.  
TG: Word.

Dave walked out to the kitchen to make a few bags of popcorn, expertly dodging an avalanche of shurikens to dig out a large bowl. He was dumping the third bag hot popcorn into the bowl when he heard Bro speak from behind him. "When's bucktooth wonder gonna be here?" Shrugging, Dave put the last bag in the microwave, punching in numbers, "Whenever he gets here." His bro hummed and plopped back down on the futon in the living room. "Well you know the drill, don't let him touch my stuff and I won't touch him." Dave was about to make a smart remark when he turned around to see him pulling up a bong onto his lap.

"Bro, really?" he frowned as the microwave hummed behind him. "It's my fucking house, I pay the bills." Bro took a hit, and after a moment exhaled saying, "And you tell me how I"m going to survive your weak long unironic pajama party butt-touching hoe down without some kind of assistance from my girl Mary Jane." He spluttered, "I help pay for food you ungrateful cow fucker, besides you have a room to do that in." Bro just raised an eyebrow over his shades, "Cow fucker? Really? Oh and I'm ungrateful? I only ask you to chip in for food while you go and draw penises at your really fucking expensive art school, which I'm helping you pay for, letting your dorky little friend have total reign over the living room for a fucking week and I"m ungrateful?" Sighing Dave pulled the last bag of popcorn out of the microwave gingerly dropping it on the counter before it blistered his fingers. "Jesus don't over react, I just don't want John to freak out, okay? He's at an art college but he's yet to be broken in to somethings," he turned back to his older brother, a very slightly pleading look on his face because Striders don't beg. Sighing, like it was a huge ordeal, Bro picked up his paraphernalia and headed toward the hallway. "Fine lil bro, I won't desensitize him right away." Dave let out a low groan when he heard Bro's door click shut. This was going to be fun, he reminded himself, Bro can't ruin this, he won't.


	2. Something Is Afoot

It was only about twenty minutes later when Dave heard the buzzer for the front door blaring repeatedly through the apartment. "Fuck, Egbert," he groaned, was he playing jingle bells via the intercom? He picked his way over to the door and pressed a button speaking into the grate, "Good god John, it's unlocked now just get the fuck up here. Shit." Presently, John was bustling throught the apartment door, all unabashed smiles. "What did you think of my rendition of your favourtie holiday carol?" Pinching the bridge of his nose, Dave sighed trying to sound aggrieved, "Motherfucking beautiful, angels wept and baby Jesus started a slow clap in heaven. Now go put your pajamas on while I get a movie started." John just laughed and made his way to the bathroom. A small smile crept its way over the blondes features, John could always lift his spirits without even trying. It was going to be a good week.

John came back in the livingroom, clad in ghost busters sleep wear complete with green slime ghost slippers. "Dude I said 'ironic pj's' not, that.." Dave said waving his hand dismissively over John.

He just snorted, "And My Little Pony footie pajamas are ironic?"

"I'm affronted, John. You say that like you don't believe I know my way around ironic capitalistic merchandise."

Rolling his eyes, the brunette grabbed a fistfull of popcorn and flopped on the couch. "Fine, I relent. What are we watching first, King of Cool?" Dave joined him, remote in hand. "I Am Legend. Because Will Smith is a fucking legend and there is no way we aren't watching it." "Alright," John grabbed up the popcorn bowl, settling it in his lap. "Let's get this party started." They watched movies well into the night, taking turns picking what to watch next. Soon the popcorn was gone, leaving John sucking the butter off corn kernals until it held no more appeal.

At around two in the morning, Bro made his first appearance. He moved like a ghost into the kitchen, rummaging around and making little noises until he slid out into the living room, taking a seat at one end of the couch. "You kids hungry?" he asked in a slightly groggy voice. John immediately perked up from his slumped position. "Yeah, food would be awesome! Are you making something?" Then Dave piped up, "Dude are you kidding? If we ate anything he made we'd be in the hospitol for sure." "Harsh, little dude. But no, I was thinking of getting a pizza." Frowning, John looked over at Bro, "I don't think anyone is open this late." "Little Ceasers man, I'll go pick it up." Dave was starting to subtly pick at the couch upholstery. Why was Bro being so amiable? What was the angle here? "You sure you're okay to drive, Bro?" He got a look with that, "I'm peachy, kid. You guys want a pie or not?" "Yeah! Can we get meatlovers, please?" John was practically bouncing in his seat, until Dave sent him a look that reminded him to be cool, ponyboy.

Dirk just gave him a miniscule smirk, "Sure kid, meatlovers it is. I"ll be back in a flash." He then got up, grabbed his keys and was out the door before Dave could call bullshit. He wasn't having this, somethiing was up. Dave felt it in his ironic little bones. "Dude," he started. "I don't think we should eat the pizza Bro gets us." John balked, and in a almost whine refuted, "But Dave! Pizza! Meatlovers!" Dave just stared at has slightly bucktoothed friend, looks like he actually did grow into those rabbit teeth, sort of. "No man, you know my bro, this has got to be some kind of test or something. He'll smear wasabi on it or lick all of the crusts." The brunette just gave him an incredulous stare. "That would be so low man, I don't think that's what he's up to." "Bro has stooped to lower levels," you intone knowingly. John settled back into the couch, "We'll just make him eat a slice first, make sure there's no monkeyshines going on." Accepting that idea a bit grudgingly, Dave grunted, pulling his feet back under him and pressing play on their movie.

Bro was back not long after, three extra large pizzas balanced on his palm. He set them on the coffee table and flicked open the nearest to him. "I just wanted cheese and I knew Dave would want Hawaiian so we all get our own." John was already drooling over a slice before Bro had finished speaking. Dave smacked his shoulder, clearing his throat. "I think you should try a slice of each of ours, Bro." Bro just raised an eyebrow at him, "Why do you want me to eat your pizza? You're usually a fucking miser when it comes to your precious greasy pineapples."

"What, you don't wanna piece of our pies? Thought you'd go apeshit to have extra food in your face."

"Dave. What are you doing?"

"I don't trust you," the blonde said flatly. Bro gazed at him stoicly for a minute before a trickle oflaughter escaped him. "You think, I'd fuck with your food? When have I ever done that?"

"Several times!"

"Name one."

"My birthday last year."

"Jesus, it was a joke. Besides I had another cake for us to eat after the first one blew up."

"And it was a shitty cake!"

"You still ate it."

"Case in point."

"Dude, the pizza is fine."

"No man, you're testing it first."

"Just eat your pie lil' dude."

"You first, assbaka."

"Fine ya' lil' shit."

Bro flips open the other two boxes and grabs a slice from each. He finishes both of them, Dave scrutinizing all movements for any hint of discomfort. He waits a few more minutes afterwards to make sure Bro doesn't suddenly need to barf or abscond to the bathroom. Then John's fidgetting next to him decidedly cuts short his observation. Obviously there wasn't anything really wrong with the pizza and he wasn't going to make John wait any longer. That man's desire for hot greasy sausage and pepperoni engorged pizza knew no bounds. With a sigh, he picked a slice of his own gingerly, watching his friend inhale two slices before his own was halfway gone. "Slow down kid," Bro said sounding amused. "Don't wanna get a stomach ache." Oh no, that fucking asshole! "I knew it!" Dave slammed down his unfinished slice and pointed an accusatory finger at his bro. "You did do something to them!" Bro's level gaze settled on his kid brother. "No, absolutely not. The kid just hoovered up two huge slices of pizza in all of thirty seconds. It's an inevitability that he'd get sick if he continued like that." "You..." John cut his friend off then, resting a slightly pizza-slick hand on his shoulder. "Hey, take breather Dave. I'm pretty sure it's okay. Besides I've got a stomach like an iron kettle, I'll be fine regardless." He tried a laugh but only succeeded in a strained sounding dry chuckle. "Listen to bucktooth wonder, Dave. He's right you know." Dave just groaned, "Why do you always have to ruin my fun."

Bro huffed then, suddenly not looking so complacent. "You're ruining your own fun by being a lil' twat. Here I was just offering to buy some grub for you guys since I was going to get myself something anyway, but nooo," he threw up his hands, drawing out the last syllable in a dramatic waver. "I'm the bad guy here." Dave rested his head on his hand grumbling, "You're always doing stupid stuff though." Before the argument could progress into even higher tiers of awkward, John sighed, "Dave, you just really need to chill out. You're still super stressed from school, I know because I am too. I'm just not creating domestic conspiracies over here. Jeez louise, just, like, smoke a blunt or something and relax man." Bro perked up, and Dave saw it. He knew what was coming now. God damn it, was this what he was setting up for? Bro basically purred as he suggested all blase, "Well, we could smoke a blunt. If you want to. Seems like Dave could really use it."

Dave expected a lot of things to happen then. John would squeak a little maybe, refuse to engage in illegal activities, perhaps turn red a little and splutter, anything along those lines were what was expected. He did not, however, cringe away, stutter, twiddle his fingers bashfully, nothing. Both Striders were a little (a lot) surprised for John to say, "Yeah, sounds great," without even batting an eyelash. Dave even expected for his friend to start fidgetting or start second guessing himself while Bro retrieved his rolling papers and stash, proceding to roll them all a fatty on top of the Little Ceasers box. Disappointment was all he got, because John was straight faced the whole time. Even when Bro lit up and passed it to him, John was the archetype of jaded as he flicked the lighter, inhaled, and passed the joint to a spellbound Dave. After a few moments, his friend made a little wiggling gesture that Dave should take what he was offering as he was still holding in his hit and couldn't speak. Dumbly, Dave consented, lifting the joint to his lips, still processing what he had seen. Taking a drag, he watched John sideways, noting how there was no tension in his face aside from still holding his breath. Then a contented sigh escaped the brunette as he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, smiling slightly and sitting back into the couch cusions. Abruptly, Dave was choking out smoke, having been too enraptured to measure how long a drag he'd taken. Hacking, Dave set down the blunt, and pounded his chest to remind his lungs how to inflate themselves. John was then leaning into him, hands on the blondes shoulders.

"Woah, woah there dude. Deep breaths, yeah like that, you're good. Yeah, you're fine man." Dave was wheezing a little bit as he leaned back, "When'd you start smoking pot, Egbert?" Aha, now, there was the flush he had been expecting. "Well," John started, his fingers starting up their patented twitch and fidget manoevre. "Freshman year of college actually." Dave bugged at him. "Well, finals had been really stressing me out! And you were really busy with yours too and we weren't hanging out for a little while so we could actually get some work done. I was in the library minding my own business when a kid from my speech class reckognized me and asked if I wanted to take a little break from studying and smoke with him. I thought he meant cigarrettes! But there we were, sitting on the grass behind the library, taking a smoke break." By the end of John's anecdote Dave had regained his breath, and now he slowly shook his head, "Dude, John, why didn't you ever tell me about that?" "I don't know," he said mildly. "Guess it just never came up." "Huh," Dave scratched his chin. "I hate to break up this cute little heart to heart, but I that joint ain't gonna smoke itself." Bro reached out his hand, and lithely John plucked it off the table and set them in his gloved hand. Bro inhaled, and passed the paraphernalia to John. He turned to Dave, asking "When did you start smoking weed?" raising one slightly bushy eybrow at his friend. Taking a hit, he regarded the blonde waiting for an answer." Now Dave was fidgetting, picking at the arm of the couch. "I never really, started smoking it. I tried it once or twice at some parties but other than that..." he shrugged then. "I'm not crazy about it, ya know? Just makes me hungry and tired."

John handed off to Dave, and picked up another slice. Then, he turned to Bro. "Now that we've shared our stories, I wanna know when you started smoking." Bro smiled a bit, inclinging his head to peer just over his pointed shades. "Me?"

"Yeah, you!"

"Nah, I"m a boring old man, you don't wanna hear my stories."

"Nooo, come on, Bro!"

Dave cut in, "Egbert.."

"Shhh! I wanna hear the story! I really do, Bro."

And oh god, there was the beginnings of the puppy face. Dave was pleased he wasn't on the receiving end of that look for once, since it was known to reduce even the most unruly professors to clay in John's hands. Bro was in for it.

"Not much of a story."

"Neither was Dave's but I still wanted to know!"

"Hey," Dave cut in, immediately shushed by a hand jiggled in his face.

"Come ooonnn," and there was phase two. Good merciful gods, he was really gearing up for this. A glance at Bro found the older Strider looking a little torn. His expression was somewhere between 'is this kid serious' and 'jesus how can an adult look so fucking cute'. Dave knew the feeling. With a sigh, the blonde man broke.

"Yeah okay, story time kids, gather round." John allowed himself a congratulatory fist pump before all of his attention was on Bro.  
"So when I was in highschool, I hung out with these kids from another school. Mainly, cause no one at my school was fucking chill enough to be seen with. These kids weren't much better, but they at least appreciated my ironic ways. A guy could dig on that. Junior year of highschool, everyone was trying to get in good with a senior to go to the prom which was fucking seniors only. For shits and giggles, I decided I'd put the ole' Strider moves on an unsuspecting chick, thought it'd be a riot when I stood her up."

"That's horrible," John chided.

"Hey, can it, storys not over." Bro continued. "Anyway, I courted the shit out of this girl for a good month before the dance. Boquets of red roses, sweet raps about her beauty (she called them 'poems' can you believe?), the whole fucking ironic nine yards. Finally, I went up to her at school, dressed up nice ya know, and got down on my one manly fucking knee and asked her to go to prom. And you know what?"

"Oh my god what?" John gushed.

"Oh my god," groaned Dave.

"She said no. Shot me down. Told me I was 'weird' and to stop sending her fuzzy teddybears and sappy mixtapes. Point blank, killed it. So, I hung out with my friends and got high instead of going to prom."

"What a bitch!" John said huffily, taking another hit. "Dude, that never happened. You're so full of shit," Dave shoved another piece of pizza in his mouth, shooting a disgruntled glare at his Bro for pulling John along. Bro sighed, "You don't have to believe me. Legends rarely become famous because everyone believed in them." The younger Strider just snorted. John however, seemed invigorated by the tale, "I'd have gone to prom with you. That would have been so sweet, that chick missed out. I bet you would have been hella fun to go out with." An eyebrow raised above Bros shades, "Ya don't say? Wish there were more people like you, Egbert. World would be a better place." Dave just groaned and snatched up the remote, "No more talking. Let's just finish watching this movie already." 


	3. I Move Slow and Steady

((Author's Note: Wow I'm so sorry it took me this long to give you this little. Life's just been cray with work and being sickish and just, I'm. So. Sorry. :/ I figured I've left you waiting long enough so I've decided to post what I've finished so far. It would have been longer I just, wanted to give you guys _something. _Thanks for being so patient and amazing.))

The three of them sat strung out over the shitty futon, watching Spiderman. The popcorn bowl lay overturned on the carpet, forgotten along with empty pizza boxes and half eaten crusts. The brothers mainly kept to their ends of the couch but John had stretched over the both of them; his head against Bro's thigh and legs sprawled over Dave's. A haze enveloped the room, sickly sweet and thick. Bro passed a joint down the line, John, then Dave took a hit, making it's slow way back to the older Strider. Eventually, Dave stretched his arms and yawned, pushing Johns legs off of him he stood up grumbling something to himself about sitting for too long. "I'm going to bed, I can't even watch this anymore." "Dude," John protested. "you wanted to watch it!" Frowning he stooped to pick up his soda, "Yeah only because I couldn't stomach any more Nic Cage for the day." Bro snorted softly, getting a soft whack from John on the shoulder. "Sleep tight, dont let the bed bugs bite." "Stuff it, Bro," and with that Dave swayed into the hallway where a soft click of a door was heard.

Not long after Dave had left, John stretched lazily, letting his limbs flop where they pleased. "Give me some more of that," he drawled out, reaching his hand back awkwardly bumping Bro in the face. "Dude, check your meat hooks, this face is prime real estate." "Could have fooled me, you're more like a vacant lot," John giggled but withdrew his blindly wandering hand nonetheless. "Here, ya mooch." Bro pressed the joint against the others lips, smacking his hands away as John grabbed for it. "Just take a puff, I don't want ya droppin' my shit and burning a hole in the floor." Sighing through his nose, John complied, holding in the smoke like a professional. When he exhaled with a slight wheeze, Bro patted his head, "Ya feeling good there, kid?" John readjusted his position, his head worming it's way onto the older Striders lap. "Yeah, pretty good," he mumbled. He watched the screen, the infamous upside down spidey-kiss was unfolding before him and he huffed. "Man, that's just stupid." Bro grunted, waiting for the ensuing tirade. He'd already witnessed one or two of Johns little spiels about the finer points of film making. The kid was passionate about his livelihood though, so Bro felt inclined to listen. "No one kisses like that. It's so unrealistic. I mean besides the fact he's upside down, that's just Hollywood being extravagant because, well Spiderman," he shrugged then pointed at the screen wildly. "But, honestly look! They're basically eating each others faces. That can't be even remotely sexy." Bro grinned slightly, "Ya never kiss anyone like that, Egbert?" John balked, turning over to stare up at the blonde. "Dude, no, I've swapped spit before, tongue and everything, but I"m a freaking gentleman. That just looks gross man. Besides, whenever would I be in a position to be hanging upside down to mack on a girl, the whole idea is preposterous," a pause. Bro then quipped, "Never know until you try." Snorting, John stretched before settling down into the couch further, "Right, just lemme run down to the studio right now, rig myself up and call over some pretty thing to get my sloppy makeouts on with. Maybe I'd even dig up a costume too, pull my mask down just enough. She'd laugh herself to death, that wouldn't be sexy at all. Just stupid." He stared up at the ceiling, a disgruntled look on his face, obviously mulling over the mental image of him swinging upside down in a spandex suit. Bro studied the kids face a moment.

He had grown quite a bit since he had first started visiting Dave, when he had still lived all the way in Washington. No longer had a baby face, was kinda muscular too, little on the short side; overall not a bad looking guy. Must be quite popular with the girls on campus. Bro shook his head slightly, clearing away those thoughts. He looked down at John again, this time only seeing a dorky guy strung out on his lap. A good looking, dorky guy. In his lap. Before Bro was even half to realization to what he was doing, he was bent over John, his face upside down at this angle. Their lips inches apart, Bro softly grumbled, "You don't have to hang upside down from a rope, or have a hot girl, to get yourself a spidey-kiss." Their lips pressed together, soft and still. Momentarily he pulled away, a ghost of grin lingering on his features. John looked up into the blondes face, slightly stupefied. Slowly, John spoke, "That wasn't like the kiss at all." Bro chortled softly, "Well I made do with the conditions given to me. Can't blame a guy for try-" "No, that's not what I meant," John interrupted quickly. Then, he went on, carefully, "I mean, well it was a pretty chaste kiss. A peck really. Nothing like the one Spidey gives Mary-Jane." Bro was quiet for a moment, refelcting on the fact the kiss itself wasn't unwarranted. John went on, bordering on babbling now, "You failed to reproduce the scene's intensity, honestly. From the standpoint of a director I wasn't convinced there was any passion at all in that gesture. Where's the soul searing desire that Peter portrays when he finally gets to smooch on his true love. You could've been kissing your kid sister with a kiss like that. Really, I would assume, given the brevity of that kiss you had no idea how to deliver a gut-wrenching emotional statement through means of such a gesture. That was so lack lustre I'd be tempted to hold secondary auditions to find a man who could pack a more powerful punch." His tirade wound down, "I mean, if I were directing this scene here. That's what I would say."

Bro was suddenly torn between laughing til he dropped dead from lack of oxygen and smooshing Johns cheeks together and babbling cute idiocies at him. This guy could swing through so many emotions in the span of a few minutes it boggled the older Strider. He decided on neither however, settling with asking John, "Should I try that scene again?" In the sparse television light, Bro could see a possible blush blooming over the younger mans nose. "Sure," was all John could manage before his lips were captured again. And, oh. Yeah, take two was much more convincing. Their mouths crushed together fervently at an albeit awkward angle. That, however did nothing to dampen it's intensity. When no resistance was given, Bro's tongue glided over Johns bottom lip, causing a small noise in the back of the brunettes throat. John parted his mouth slowly, giving Bro the opportunity to slip his seeking tongue inside. Though he did so slowly, giving John the opportunity to put on the brakes. Instead, his tongue rose to meet Bro's, a soft mewl coming from his throat. 'Holy fucking christ," thought Bro, 'he's not freaking out, he's enjoying this, oh god, don't you freak man, keep it cool...' Similar thoughts roiled around his mind as he macked on John meticulously, sparing no crevice, saving no tricks. The sounds that were wrung from the younger man put Bro in a predicament. If this kiss was going to continue, John would definitely begin to notice the lump in Bro's jeans, seeing as the kids head was still nestled in his lap. Gingerly, Bro pulled away, not without noticing John's neck craning to steal just a few more seconds of sweet pressure, however.

John let his head fall back to Bro's lap and let out pleased sigh.  
"You got the part."


End file.
